


Magic Elf Powers

by awkward_ace



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Annoyance, Attempt at Humor, Established Relationship, F/M, Humor, Romance, how is this even a thing, join the Dark Side Cullen, leads to sexy times, my lover is doing this on purpose i know it just wait until they hear about it from me, they have smoochins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-12-01 22:33:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11496105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awkward_ace/pseuds/awkward_ace
Summary: It started as an uncertain but sarcastic answer for many questions, and then it became a living thing. Cullen thought it was really cute at first but now it's getting really annoying, really fast, and everyone around him is using it. He is going to tell the Inquisitor what he thinks of her snark, and he will not be swayed otherwise!...Or, maybe, he will.Well, he tried, anyway.Rated a little higher because of some stronger language, and because of the beginnings of fun adulty things.





	Magic Elf Powers

**Author's Note:**

> I believe I think I'm way funnier than I actually am. And you, dear readers who decided to click this, suffer for it. I love you for bearing with me this far.
> 
> The magic elf powers made you do it.

** Do you believe in magic?  **

 

It had started out being cute. It was flippant, coy, teasing, and _Maker help me, that is so fucking cute._

That was before it had morphed into a seemingly living thing, and spread. Spread far and wide until it seemed like everyone in the Inquisition used it, and now it was _not cute_.

Now it was infuriating and Cullen sort of… _hated_ it.

“It” was the answer that had been coined by Pria Lavellan, apostate mage, survivor of the Temple of Sacred Ashes, She Who Fell from the Fade, the Demon-killer, Dragon-Slayer, the Herald of Andraste, and the Inquisitor. “It” was first spoken when asked by a soldier how she had survived the Fade, and she was no longer in immediate danger of execution (Pria was a sarcastic creature, but not stupid). She had answered, “Uh…magic elf powers?”

She used it again when asked how she managed to find Master Dennet _and_ stabilize the Hinterlands so that supplies could make it through to the refugees. “Magic elf powers?”

Again when asked how she found the energy to get up every morning, have breakfast, help serve other people their breakfast, train with the recruits for a bit, disappear to the woods to find herbs (and a bloody logging stand, once) and iron, make lunch, eat lunch with Varric, spend several hours talking to Solas (the elf could talk.), attend war meetings, help with dinner, and then do whatever paperwork she needed to, all before going to bed. “Magic elf powers.”

It began to grow more confident.

“Herald! How did you stop the war?”

“Magic elf powers.”

“Herald! How did you manage to take a keep?”

 “Magic elf powers.”

“Inquisitor! How did you escape Haven?”

“Magic elf powers…uh, and with the uh…help of…uhm, Andraste.”

“Inquisitor! How did you find Skyhold?”

“Magic elf powers.”

“Inquisitor, how did you get an alliance with _Orlais_?”

“Magic elf powers.”

Now it was a _thing_. Cullen hadn’t noticed it, initially at first, because it started just in her inner circle, but it creeped outward, insidiously. Sera, shockingly, had been the first to use it.

“Sera. _How_ did that bucket get above Ambassador Montilyet’s door?”

“I dunno. Magic elf powers?”

Then, the Iron Bull.

“…Bull, how in the Maker’s name did you even know about these plans?”

“Magic elf powers, Commander. Freaky magic elf powers.”

Solas used it, once.

“How are you so sure that this will work? That the amulet can even be used for this?”

“Ah…magic elf powers.”

Dorian began tossing it around as much as he swore and drank, not than anyone was surprised to hear that phrase drop from his lips. How did he manage to always look so kept, even after coming back from weeks in the field? Magic elf powers, of course, thank you for noticing.

“How did you find his name?”

“Magic elf powers, my dear advisors, magic elf powers. A little rubbed off on me.”

Cullen was _much_ thrown when it slipped out of Cassandra once.

“You just got that book, how are you finished already.”

“Magic elf powers.”

He stared at her. Her eyes widened after a moment and she covered her mouth with a hand. “Shit,” she muttered.

How did Cole do his disappearing act? Magic elf powers. How did Vivienne keep such a level head all the time? Magic elf powers. What enabled Blackwall to be so steadfast and certain in his purpose? Where did he learn how to carve wood like that, anyway, that was a beautiful griffon? Fucking. Magic. Elf. Powers.

Varric was writing a short story by the same title, and took every chance he could to toss it at Cullen.

“Hey, Curly, I think I know how we survived Haven.”

“Varric, do not—“

“Magic elf powers.”

“Curly! Want to know how you lost that last hand?”

“No.”

“Magic elf powers.”

It could be used for _anything_ , apparently.

Then Leliana and Josephine began to use it, and he almost— _almost_ —threw his stack of paperwork across the room in frustration and despair.

“My agents aren’t having any luck in finding a safe road through that mountain pass. We may have to go around.”

“And how, pray tell, are we supposed to do that will a fully armed company?”

“…Magic elf powers?”

_Maker’s breath, not this again_!

“Some noble families are wanting an audience with the Inquisitor. I suspect that several are aiming for a marriage proposal.”

“Absolutely not,” he growled, “I don’t care what excuse you give them, the answer is _no_.”

“I thought as much. Hmm. Magic elf powers it is, I suppose.”

The worst manifestation came when he began to hear it being used by soldiers and maids and cooks and seemingly the whole damn keep!

“Recruit, what in all of Creation made you think it was acceptable to _fall asleep_ while on duty?”

“…Magic elf powers? Ser.”

“Two barrels of wine don’t just disappear into thin air! What happened!”

“Magic elf powers, m’lord.”

“Well _someone_ forgot to pull the bread from the oven. How are we supposed to save it now?”

“Magic elf powers? For bread?”

“It gets any colder and we might lose half the vegetable garden. Any ideas that might help?”

“Magic elf powers.”

“Where are your shields. Why are they not up.”

“Magic elf powers.” _That didn’t even make sense!_

_“How! Someone kindly tell me how all the training dummies ended up on the roof of the tavern!”_

“Magic elf powers, ser!”

Magic elf powers. Magic elf powers. _Magic. Elf. Powers. Fucking magic elf powers!_

When he saw the magic elf _responsible_ for these _powers_ , he was going to give her a piece of his mind. Surely this was a way to drive him mad! He turned sharply on his heel, shoving his training sword roughly into the hands of a waiting soldier and stormed away from the training yard.

Cullen stomped up the stairs to her quarters and hammered on the door with his fist before stepping inside. “Pria Lavellan, I would like a word with you,” he groused as he stalked up the stairs.

She met him at the top, wearing nothing but her shift. It was soft, thin linen, off white, and barely brushed the middle of her thighs. Her vallaslin slid down her chin and neck to disappear beneath the low neckline, between her breasts. He could just make out her skin tone through the material.

_Oh, Maker._

“Cullen? What’s wrong? You only say my name like that if you’re cross,” she said, brow furrowed curiously, and with worry.

_Sweet Andraste, this woman is going to drive me into insanity, and I am happy about it. What is wrong with me._

She gently touched his cheek, dragging his attention away from the swell of her hips to her eyes, and he promptly tossed his annoyance aside because, fuck it, it didn’t matter. How was he supposed to be cross when she looked at him like that ( _like he was the most important thing in all Creation and Maker, I love you and want you so badly)_ and when she was wearing such a flimsy thing?

“Cullen?” she said, again. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. Just needed to see you,” he replied, a touch distractedly, and looped his arms around her tightly to crush her into his chest, catching her lips up in a bruising, lusty kiss.

She made a startled little noise as she was pulled onto her toes, but it faded quickly into an airy chuckle against his mouth, nipping softly at his lip and sucking on it lightly, earning a quiet groan. Her fingers tangled into his hair, nails gently dragging over his scalp, sending all sorts of wonderful thrills and prickles down his spine.

“Pria,” he breathed huskily, barely pulling back. “Please tell me you have a little time free.”

Her eyes were darker, heated as they fluttered open to look at him. She nodded. “As much time as you would like, ma vhenan,” she murmured.

Cullen made a low, growling sort of noise in his throat and slid his hands down to her thighs, lifting her up to take the handful of steps over to her bed and drop her gently onto it, crawling after her to steal another heated kiss.

Pria moaned softly as his thigh pressed between her legs, lips parting easily to his questing tongue, hands sliding down his chest and stomach to pull at the hem of his shirt, darting underneath to find his skin, playful little shocks dancing over it, left in the wake of her fingertips.

He bit at her lip, almost chiding, and broke away to rather unceremoniously push up her shift and pull it off her. “None of that, Mistress Lavellan,” he gently scolded, and tossed the shift aside to begin kissing softly along her neck, hands sliding up her stomach so that they could start mapping her skin from shoulders down.

She gave him an arch look, and sat up to quickly unlace his shirt and pull it over his head. “Not what you said the other night,” she replied, kissing the hollow of his throat, “Not that I’m complaining, but what brought this on, Ser Rutherford?”

He paused in his process of admiring her body, hand stilling where her hip dipped to meet her thigh, brow furrowed.

_There is no way that this worked out the way it did. I won’t say it._

Her teeth bit lightly at his ear lobe, making a shiver wrack his frame, and his breath rushed out abruptly. “Commander?” she whispered in his ear, breath raising goosebumps over his skin. One of her hands gently traced the pale trail of hair that began at his navel and vanished past the waistband of his breeches. His breathing hitched, just a little.

_To the Fade with it._

“Magic elf powers,” he murmured in answer to her question, leaning in to swallow her laugh with a hungry kiss as he pushed her back onto the mattress.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Somehow I started an inside joke with myself. It started with "Magic" in "A Collection of Small Things", which became "Magic elf powers" in another little thing I wrote that I'm still eyeing, and that made...this. Is it possible to have an inside joke with yourself? Is it healthy?
> 
> Anyway. Feel free to use "magic elf powers" as your excuse for things, too. I want to hear of any weird looks you get.


End file.
